


The Art of Indulgence

by Caeseria



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Body Worship, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), If you are not reading this on AO3 then my work has been stolen, Kissing, Knotting, M/M, Mild Blood, Rimming, Rough Sex, Switching, Top Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 15:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19793614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caeseria/pseuds/Caeseria
Summary: Finding time for each other is a rare indulgence that neither Shiro or Keith can afford, but sometimes fate and the universe come together to create an opportunity that neither one is willing to let pass by.





	The Art of Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [svana_vrika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/svana_vrika/gifts).



> For my lovely beta and best friend, Svana. Thank you for being you, and allowing me the opportunity to write in a new fandom and having it be a fun experience, despite the fact it's been a while since I wrote smut! <3
> 
> This is set sometime after Season 4, Episode 1 when Keith joins the Blades officially and steps down as the black Paladin.
> 
> *If you are not reading this on A03, then my work has been stolen and is being distributed without my permission.*

Keith finds Shiro in a dusty marketplace on the far side of the moon of Marekisha. Most of Marekisha is dusty; the hot desert air swirls in gentle eddies at Shiro’s feet, lifting the gray dust until everything is covered in it. Every sensible person is dressed in long, draping robes and scarves or veils that cover them from head to foot, with only their eyes showing. Shiro's dressed similarly, but without the headscarf, preferring to take his chances with the dust and heat. 

He wishes he’d maybe examined Coran’s Altean database a little more closely before coming planet side, because he's currently a little lost. Coran has asked him to visit the local swap merchant on his behalf. He's got a small shopping list, and some random advice from Coran to get him through the experience. ("Remember, Shiro, always start out with an IOU and work up!"). As it is he clutches a misshapen woven sack, filled with a few ingredients Hunk has asked him to pick up, a random piece of tech Pidge dumped off of him before disappearing back into the market, and a small ornament of a desert lion that had taken Shiro’s fancy for some unknown reason. Maybe if he ever makes it back to Earth he’ll give it pride of place on the mantel in his hypothetical apartment, providing Keith will let him, if Keith is hypothetically living with him. Shiro can always dream. 

It’s a little bit of a shock when a body brushes up against Shiro’s side, a definite caress sliding over his hip; fingers pressing insistently into his pocket beneath the gap in his robe. Shiro moves to the side, and grabs the figures wrist, applying pressure to the fragile bones beneath. The figure winces; large, kohl rimmed eyes stare up into his face, and a familiar, whiskey-rough voice says, “Shiro,” like a caress. Shiro is aware of the phrase _'bedroom eyes'_ , and Keith definitely has those, especially when they are rimmed in smudged, black kohl like they are right now, but he’s never heard Keith purr out his name like this; a promise on each breath. Shiro's higher logic tries to shut down and valiantly shuttles all his pent up desire and longing straight to his dick.

“Act like I just propositioned you,” Keith whispers.

 _Not going to be a stretch to imagine that_ , Shiro thinks. He drops his eyes to where he knows Keith’s lips are; he can’t see them beneath the thin fabric veil covering his face, but he wishes he could. He can imagine, though; plump, slightly chapped lips quirked with a smile resting impishly in the corner. Shiro swallows around a throat gone dry and drags his gaze back upward, immediately losing himself in Keith’s eyes all over again. Keith winks at him, and Shiro knows that Keith is going to tease him later for his reaction. He’s looking forward to it, but fair is fair, so Shiro turns Keith's hand over, lifts it to his mouth, and places a kiss just to the inside of Keith’s wrist, right over his pulse point. “Well, if it isn’t my favourite Blade. This good enough for you?” he purrs, raising an eyebrow.

Keith pulls in a sharp, surprised breath and blinks a couple of times, and Shiro can almost swear he picks up the faintest edge of a blush just below the edge of the fabric covering Keith’s face. Shiro releases his wrist, and Keith steps back with reluctance. It’s been too long since they last saw each other only to have this be a fleeting crossing of paths; the Blades have been keeping Keith busy for the last month on various missions, and Shiro’s working with them to coordinate the joint attack on the Galra. Time spent together is brief, a luxury neither can afford. But as Shiro watches Keith disappear back into the crowd, the dust obscuring his figure almost immediately, Shiro thinks that Keith may have managed a small miracle after all. He ducks into the opening of an alleyway, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper covered with looping script. 

_Meet me at these coordinates as soon as you can get away_ , the note says, with a line of numbers after it, clearly supposed to delineate an area of space.

Shiro sucks in a deep breath and releases it slowly, crumpling the paper into a ball as it slowly starts to disintegrate, smoke curling briefly before the paper turns to nothing more than ash. His heart suddenly feels lighter, like a weight has been lifted from his chest. _Soon_ , he thinks, _I will see you again._

Soon. _Soon_ is a benediction; a promise, a prayer. One he will make come to fruition.

* * *

The coordinates Keith had provided are… vague, to say the least, but that's not surprising. The Blade of Marmora are well known for their obsessive need to remain in the shadows, going to extraordinary lengths to keep themselves hidden – they are just a rumour, a suggestion; a whisper in the air. The coordinates lead Shiro to a planetary system, and he wonders how he’s supposed to find Keith in such a vast area of space. This system boasts sixteen planets, and one of the large gas giants has three interlocking sets of rings and over twenty tiny moons, all fighting for their own orbit and survival. It’s the planetary equivalent of a major traffic jam, and Shiro sighs, leaning back in his seat. He rests his hand loosely on the left lever as the Black Lion cruises slowly through the system, crossing through an Oort cloud and into the inner system. Shiro has all sensors on alert, waiting for a ping, because he figures Keith will find him – somehow. 

It's not the first time Shiro’s been wrong and, let's face it, probably won’t be the last. He feels the Black Lion catch something at the edge of its consciousness, which echoes through their link to Shiro. If he concentrates he can almost feel it; a faint disturbance to the far left, close to one of the inner planets. The disturbance is small, merely a ripple, but it feels warm and familiar, and Shiro isn’t surprised when he feels the lion nudge him mentally, urging Shiro to action. 

The closer Shiro and the Lion get, the more the ripple grows. It becomes a point of contact; the essence of something – someone – familiar to them both. 

_Keith_.

The ripple nudges back, almost fondly in shared acknowledgement, and Shiro is surprised to feel the Lion rumble contentedly within their shared mindscape. It occurs to Shiro that the Lion is more sentient than he initially thought; not only does it recognize its previous paladin, but welcomes the renewed contact, rather like one would greet a familiar and much loved friend. Shiro wonders if the Lion would do the same for him if their roles were reversed. In the past, the Lion clearly remembered Zarkon and was, at one point, receptive enough to its prior paladin to allow itself to be tracked. Eventually the Lion had formed a stronger bond with Shiro, but Shiro is, nonetheless, pleased that it retains enough fondness for Keith to not only acknowledge him, but to actively seek him out. It's a damn useful skill to have available.

Shiro skirts past a large planet, close enough that he can catch the sulfurous glow of a massive volcano and its lava flow, but this lava glows green like poison, staining the surrounding landmass and boiling the ocean adjacent to it. They skip over the atmosphere, use it to slingshot past a secondary planet caught in its orbit, and into the inner solar system. Keith’s signal is coming from a small jungle moon adjacent to an inert, rocky, earth-sized planet, and together Shiro and the Lion begin a shallow descent pattern, wrapping around the small moon before settling down into the jungle proper. The moon may only be half the size of Earth’s moon, but the rampant jungle more than makes up for it, swallowing the giant lion almost to its chest as they settle on the surface. 

Shiro gives the lever a final pat before sliding from his seat, and exiting the lion. The lion retracts its massive head and settles into what looks like comfy sitting position, arming the force field which glows with a pale violet against the thick vegetation. Better safe than sorry, Shiro thinks, starting to push through the undergrowth. The growth is thick here with trees remarkably similar to Earth’s tropical vegetation; pseudo-palm trees and lush ferns that border on blue-green, dripping with moisture. The air is also thick with droplets of water, misty in places where it becomes thick and concentrated. Flowers in shades of vibrant yellow, orange and purple lay scattered over the ground from thick vines. Shiro follows these vines through the vegetation, as they create a path of least resistance in the direction he wishes to go. 

It’s clear that while Keith has let Shiro chase him here, to this planet, Shiro can no longer pick up his signal. Keith will find him when he wants to; in the meantime, Shiro is perfectly happy to take his time and explore a new planet. Shiro removes his helmet and breathes in the heady, blossom laden scent of this moon. It's a heavy, sweet scent that's almost sickly, ripe and bordering on decay.

A faded white wall appears out of the undergrowth, the ground sloping upward just enough that Shiro needs to pull himself up using one of the vines. The mist recedes, and curved, terraced ruins reveal themselves, stacked against the side of the mountains, peeking through the thick undergrowth and trailing plants and vines. A distant roaring sound of falling waters echoes eerily, the sound muffled in the moisture laden air. Each terrace of this old settlement appears abandoned, time having frozen everything under its spell, dirt and decay and a harsh tropical sun bleaching them to the color of old bones.

Shiro ducks under an overhanging balcony, stepping into the shade. Away from the sun, the air is damp and chill, and the shadows dark. Each building is formed from a smooth, plastic-like substance that feels faintly gritty against his fingertips. It’s just alien enough that Shiro knows automatically that this place cannot be Terran in design, nor in origin. He follows a wide, tiled corridor further into the settlement. It appears as if each dwelling is grouped around a courtyard, and each grouping is part of a larger settlement built against and into the side of a soaring rock face. In the distance Shiro can just make out the thunder of water, and the air is filled with a fine mist that clings to his armour and bodysuit. Bemused, Shiro follows the line of the rock face, sidestepping puddles of water that pool on the tiled ground, until the rock face falls back to expose the rush of a massive waterfall, at least five stories high. The force of the water breaks through the terraces and buildings situated above, cannibalizing what's left of the ruins overhead. 

“One of the Blades told me that a freak storm destroyed this settlement, over a thousand years ago,” says a familiar smoky-rich voice. The timbre of that voice makes Shiro’s eyes close; a soft sigh escape his lips, before he reopens them. A figure detaches itself from the shadow of a building and steps toward him, all feline grace and familiar movement wrapped within the revealing yet practical armour of the Blades of Marmora. “This is all that remains of the settlement moon of Ilosa,” Keith adds, stopping just shy of Shiro. "Now, it's just one of our small satellite bases, although it's not staffed all the time, only when we need to listen to chatter in this sector."

"It feels pretty abandoned to me," Shiro adds, stepping closer. He reaches out a hand, cupping Keith's cheek, and gently presses his forehead against Keith's, spending a second simply basking in the fact that they are _together, at last_.

Keith lifts his chin, just enough to press his lips against Shiro's. Shiro was right; Keith's lips are slightly chapped, but soft and plump. Entirely kissable. He moves to do just that, but Keith places a hand on his chest, smirking up at him. "Business first," he says with a raised eyebrow, daring Shiro to contradict him. "Pleasure later."

Shiro is more than happy to go with that plan, even if that means he has to wait a little longer. "Patience yields focus?"

Keith snorts. "Thank you for not disappointing me with that." 

He steps away, and beckons for Shiro to follow. Shiro follows, watching Keith move through the ruins. He's become leaner, his muscles more developed in the months since Keith last visited the Castle of Lions. Shiro is not afraid to note that the Blades armour does a lot for him, especially when Keith is wearing it.

They move through the ruins, away from the cascading deafening roar of the water, and Shiro is impressed at how far the settlement seems to extend. Keith stops eventually in small courtyard with an open ceiling, and now Shiro can see that dusk is starting to turn the sky a faint lavender color, since this system's sun tends to burn more blue than Earth's does. He's left a lamp burning just inside one of the ruined dwellings, and when Shiro steps through the doorway he can see the building is almost intact. Keith has a couple of bedrolls laid out near the center of the room, and Shiro meets his gaze with a suggestively raised eyebrow and a grin on his face.

Keith turns and begins to walk backward, keeping his gaze fixed on Shiro, slowly pulling his knife from its sheath at the small of his back and laying it on a table to the side. He moves to his belt, and for a moment, Shiro thinks Keith is going to take it off. Instead, Keith reaches into the side and pulls out a small data port which he holds up. "Don't lose this," he says, looking up at Shiro and biting his lip coquettishly, which should look at odds on Keith's face but actually seems to work. 

Shiro knows when he's being played, knows that Keith will go through the intelligence thoroughly tomorrow with him, but right now they are both too keyed up to pay it much attention. Shiro takes the data port from Keith and pockets it, but keeps hold of his wrist, placing a soft kiss to his pulse point, just like he did at the market. He watches Keith's eyes darken with want, and vows that he is going to tease Keith to within an inch of his life and then make him beg to come later on Shiro's dick. Keith's led him a merry dance over the last three weeks and two star systems, and Shiro knows he can't take much more of it.

Keith is an indulgence he should never have earned; but Shiro is damned if he's going to waste it.

"You planned for this," Shiro says, gesturing around the room. "How long were you waiting for me here?"

Keith flushes. "A couple of days. I didn't account for you guys all haring off on a medical supply rescue mission."

"Thank you for waiting for me anyway." Shiro steps close, until he can press into the lean line of Keith's body and kiss him properly.

Keith melts against Shiro; his immediate surrender unexpected, but never unwelcome. He fits himself along the lines of Shiro's body, molds himself to fit, like he was always supposed to be there. The kiss is at first hesitant; a gentle exploration of each other, a relearning. Shiro had forgotten how Keith tastes on his tongue, the little noises of pleasure he makes when they kiss. He sweeps his hand down the arch of Keith's spine to the dip of his waist, and then over the swell of his firm ass. Keith rolls into the movement, sinuous and sleek, pressing himself against Shiro, encouraging without words. Shiro tangles his other hand in Keith's hair, near his nape, tugging him closer, and the kiss turns a little more needy, more urgent when Keith sweeps his tongue into Shiro's mouth, backing him toward the table. Shiro goes willingly, letting Keith get a leg between his thighs, lets Keith crowd him in. Shiro's hard now, Keith also, and they find a messy rhythm, hips working in tandem, seeking pleasure.

Keith pulls away, taking a soft, gasping breath. "Not like this, Shiro. I wanna do this properly."

Shiro loves the way that when Keith starts talking in slang when he aroused, contracting his words until he almost sounds a little tipsy, words slurring together. _Want to_ becomes a messy _wanna_. It's terribly endearing, makes Shiro ache with something he can't quite explain yet.

"Good plan. Less clothing, more naked," Shiro replies a little breathlessly. He lets Keith remove his Blade of Marmora armour; it's put together a little differently than the Paladin armour Shiro's wearing. Keith strips down in seconds, pausing and raising an eyebrow at Shiro.

"You aren't naked," Keith says flatly, like this is actually a problem. Keith takes a step backward, eyebrow still raised, and licks his lips slowly, eyes dropping down to Shiro's mouth, and then back up to meet his gaze once more. He's got his black undersuit on still, and it fits the curves of his body beautifully, outlining his slender waist and lean hips. Shiro can count every muscle, deeper shadows against the black pliable fabric, and lets his gaze wander, following the path of Keith's hand as he strokes down his own body, brushing his fingers over the hard swell of his cock. Keith squeezes; lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them Shiro catches a flash of cat-like pupils, definitely not human, and it makes his breath catch in his throat. Keith is beautiful like this, a little human, maybe a little not. Maybe a lot not human, and that's something to consider, definitely. 

Keith gives his cock a final stroke and then reaches for the zipper on the bodysuit, pulling it down and gradually revealing his bare skin beneath. He shimmies the suit off and flings it in the corner, letting Shiro take his fill, from every scar, while and pale pink against his skin, to the darker skin of his cock, blushed with arousal. "Well?" Keith purrs out, "Are you going to stand there, or are you going to do something?"

Shiro realizes that he's still basically dressed, and hurries to get naked as quickly as possible, flinging parts of his armour into the corner and pulling off the undersuit in one quick rush. Then he's on Keith, kissing the daylights out of him, hands sliding over as much naked skin as he can, letting Keith's warmth and arousal surround him, overwhelm him. He nips at Keith's jaw, runs his hands over Keith's ass, urges him to the bedroll beneath. Keith goes willingly, spreading himself out beneath Shiro's hands, letting him take as much as he wants. He explores Shiro in return, gentle touches and caresses, relearning each new part of Shiro as well. 

Shiro's panting softly by the time Keith smirks at him, rolling over onto his stomach and spreading his legs in invitation. Shiro pauses, kneeling between Keith's spread thighs, to appreciate the view beneath him. Keith rests his chin on his crossed hands and glances over his shoulder, watching Shiro. He closes his eyes as Shiro strokes down his spine with a palm. Keith has new scars since the last time they were able to do this; small cuts scattered over his shoulder and a new jagged scar at the top of his hip, as if he'd been moving when he was attacked, as if he had turned to avoid the blow and caught the trailing edge of it. Shiro doesn't want to think about what kind of weapon would cause such a slashing wound, so instead he leans down and presses his lips against it, feels Keith twitch beneath him as if it takes effort _not_ to react.

He moves along Keith's spine, laying kisses as he goes, stroking over his skin, the swell of his ass. Keith rocks his hips upward into Shiro's palms; a not-so-subtle hint to get on with it. Shiro feels his answering smile shape his next kiss right over Keith's tailbone, and he kneads his fingers into the firm muscle of Keith's ass. 

Keith lets out a shuddering sigh. "Shiro," he scolds on his next shaky breath. "Stop messing around."

"I want to worship you," Shiro replies. Drops another kiss against his tailbone, teasing at more. He lets his breath ghost across Keith's skin, "Let me?"

In response, Keith drops his head down and pushes his ass up, spreading his legs a little wider. "Do your worst, Shirogane," he mutters, but Shiro can hear the breathless need in his voice; the things Keith won't ask for. It's up to Shiro to take what they both want for them.

He slides his thumb down the crack of Keith's ass, parting his cheeks, admiring the sight before him. He presses his thumb pad to Keith's hole, feels Keith take a tight indrawn breath, and then Shiro leans down, settling on his own stomach between Keith's legs, and goes to town with his mouth. He starts off with gentle kisses over Keith's hole, sucking kisses into the tender skin, and then uses the flat of his tongue, getting him nice and wet. He can feel Keith tense and then relax, going almost boneless when Shiro begins to work his tongue inside. Shiro loves this; loves to feel when Keith starts to shake, how his thighs tremble when Shiro pushes a slick finger inside him, pressing deeper than he can get with his tongue alone. Loves it when Keith starts to roll his hips, rocking back to meet his thrusts, to become more vocal and a lot less shy about what he wants. Shiro fucks Keith with his tongue and his fingers, feeling as Keith loosens up around him, letting him press deeper. Shiro moans, and Keith lets out a gasping breath that turns into a needy whine as he arches his spine.

Shiro is rutting messily against the bedroll beneath him. The friction drives him a little insane but it's not nearly enough to get himself off. No, what really has him desperately hard is the little noises Keith is making, the way he's tensing beneath Shiro's hands and mouth. It's not going to take much to push Keith right over the edge, and that's something Shiro doesn't want to do yet. He wants to wreck Keith in all the best ways, indulge every fantasy Keith has ever had, discover a few new ones along the way.

He pulls out his finger, uses his hands to spread Keith's thighs wider, and kisses his way down Keith's perineum to his balls, mouthing at each one, sucking kisses over the delicate skin, before moving back up and resuming where he left off. Keith growls; a low sexy sound that Shiro's never heard him make before. 

"Shiro, _please_."

Okay, so Keith is not above begging on occasion, Shiro notes. _Good to know_. "Patience, baby," Shiro croons into the crease of Keith's ass, hot breath against his twitching, greedy hole. "Be good for me."

"I – _fuck_ , Shiro," Keith whines.

That sound goes straight to Shiro's cock: it calls to the most animal part of his hindbrain, it makes him preen. Keith is falling apart, trembling beneath him, and Shiro wants to draw it out as long as possible.

Keith turns, enough that he can reach back and run his fingers through Shiro's hair. Keith's fingers tighten a little; maybe to pull Shiro closer, maybe to push him away; he seems undecided. His mouth is parted, breath coming fast and uneven, and his cheekbones are flushed with a hectic blush. Keith is gorgeous, lost in his desire like this.

Shiro flattens his tongue and swipes over Keith's hole, just to watch as Keith's eyes slide closed for a moment. When he opens them, his pupils are mere slits, a little more catlike than before, and Shiro can detect a hint of fang pressing against Keith's plump bottom lip. His gaze locks on Shiro and he tightens his fingers in Shiro's hair: a clear warning that sends a sharp, hard thrill of excitement like a punch to Shiro's gut.

Shiro has forgotten momentarily that Keith is half-Galra, and apparently there's only so much teasing Keith can take. 

"Shiro." What had been a whimper is now a growl, and Keith is shifting beneath him, his once pliant body tightening. 

Objectively, Shiro realizes he's already in a vulnerable position, however, what he doesn't expect is for Keith to twist, wrapping his thighs tight around Shiro's head and flipping them expertly so that Shiro is on his back. Keith slides out from under him and suddenly he's straddling Shiro's hips, with Shiro's hands pinned beside his head. 

"Enough teasing," Keith growls, squeezing Shiro's wrists; a warning not to try anything. He leans forward, locking his weight so Shiro can't do much more than wiggle; completely pinned down, and that sends a harsh jolt of pleasure up Shiro's spine.

Shiro stares into Keith's cat-like eyes; sees a hint of warmth there, but he also sees the Galra side, a flinty, impersonal cataloging of his every weakness and strength, a cold calculation of every possible move and resulting outcome factoring in the seconds it takes for Keith to decide that Shiro is _prey_. 

Keith lets out a noise somewhere between a purr and a watchful growl, and his lips part to reveal the tips of fangs as he rolls his hips languidly down, rutting against Shiro. Shiro tries to buck upward, to meet the next roll of Keith's hips, but his weight is firmly centered, pinning Shiro quite effectively. Shiro swallows nervously; watches as Keith watches him, waiting to see what Shiro might do next. Shiro feels the lean press of Keith's body against his, his hard cock, and it sends a shocking thrill through him. Before he realizes what he's done, Shiro tips his head back, exposing his vulnerable neck and that's all it takes for Keith to lean forward, dragging his hands above his head, leaning down to nuzzle into the join of his neck and jaw, to lick a lazy stripe across the tender skin just below and then croon, "Such a good boy, Shiro."

Keith's teeth graze over Shiro's pulse point, and then he's moving, hands releasing Shiro's wrists, moving instead to his hips and flipping him over until Shiro is spread out beneath him. Shiro lets out a needy moan as Keith strokes his palms along Shiro's spine, the barest pinprick of nails against his skin. Keith presses harder, dragging his nails now, and Shiro bucks into the pleasure and the pain, gasping out something that might be Keith's name; it might not. He fists his hands in the bedroll and rocks down, feeling a stuttering tingle of pleasure race back up his spine from the friction.

"You like this," Keith purrs out, nuzzling into the nape of his neck, leaving a trail of nips and kisses along his shoulder. "You like being under me, Shiro." He sounds…smug, and Shiro wishes he could get enough brain cells together to counter Keith's observation, but maybe that'll have to wait until later.

Now, now he has more pressing matters to attend to, like the distant sound of the cap of the lube snapping closed, and then the slide of Keith's slick fingers down the crack of his ass, pressing carefully at his asshole. Another electric thrill pulses through Shiro's body at the thought of Keith breaching him, taking him like this, and he finds he likes the idea. He relaxes, lets Keith push a finger in at the same time he nips at Shiro's shoulder, just a little harder. Shiro lets out a shuddering breath, lightheaded with pleasure, and drops his head down, hips relaxing and spreading his legs. 

Keith pushes between his legs, uses his knees to press Shiro's thighs wider, and twists his finger as he pushes back in with a second. His other hand rests between Shiro's shoulder blades, a reminder of Shiro's earlier surrender, a subtle acknowledgement of his control. "Keith," Shiro breathes out on an exhale, a quick inhale on the next as Keith starts to fuck him with his fingers, slowly, pumping in and out. 

"Patience, Shiro," Keith responds, voice rough in his desire. He sounds like he's straining to stay in control. "Be good for me, yes?"

Shiro is not so far gone that he doesn't miss Keith echoing his earlier words right back at him, but that's one of the many reasons he loves Keith. Keith can be a brat, and right now that brat is a dangerous one, control wavering on a thread, and Shiro wants to push him over hard, break that thread and see just what a half-Galra can do when they let themselves go. 

"And what if I'm not good?" Shiro asks. He shifts just enough to look over his shoulder, although it's difficult with Keith's weight pressed between his shoulder blades.

Keith laughs shakily, drags his gaze up from where he's watching his fingers, buried in Shiro's ass, to look into his face. "You'll be good for me Shiro, because I want you to." He bites his lip, and gives a hard twist with his fingers inside Shiro, curling them forward. Shiro sees stars; a hard, sharp burst of pleasure so intense it doesn't feel real. Keith leans down and nibbles at Shiro's ear. "Make more of those noises," he says, "I want to hear you when I fuck you."

Shiro is still reeling from the absolute filth Keith is saying when Keith slides his fingers out, leaving Shiro feeling empty and a little lost. Seconds later he's pulled onto his knees roughly, and Keith settles between his thighs, kicking them open, hands on Shiro's hips, holding him in place. Shiro fists his hands in the fabric of the bedroll and takes a breath, and then he can feel the blunt pressure of Keith's cock against his hole, pushing in. His own cock pulses between his legs, and Shiro lets out a shuddering sigh as he's breached, the flared head of Keith's cock feeling far larger than it should. Keith is well hung on a good day, even larger when he's hard, and Shiro fights to relax enough to let Keith in. 

"Oh, fuck, _Keith_ ," he stutters out, dropping his head down until it rests on the bedroll between his clenched fists. The muscles of his ass aches; but it's a pleasant ache, promising pleasure and his body clamps down and then relaxes as Keith pushes deeper. He can feel Keith stroking his free hand up Shiro's flank, soothing, calming him even as it seems the push never ends. Keith doesn't pause, he doesn't wait it out, and Shiro realizes that even through the whole thing Keith is talking; a litany of soft words and encouragement, designed to calm him. Eventually, he can feel the sharp bones of Keith's hips flush against his ass, and Keith rocks a little, leaning down to kiss the base of his spine where it dips at his waist.

Panting, Shiro lets out a rough moan, wiggling to accommodate Keith's cock, maybe get him moving, because every second that passes without movement is becoming torture; Shiro needs to get fucked hard, he needs Keith, needs –

"Gonna fuck you hard," Keith announces, against the shell of Shiro's ear. His voice is rough, almost drunk on pleasure. "Gonna make you scream for it, Shiro." He grips Shiro's waist and rocks backward, and the drag of his cock is enough to make Shiro's back bow, to thrust his ass out greedily, offering himself.

Keith snaps his hips forward, and Shiro does shout, then. The race of pleasure through his nerve endings is pure electric fire, far too much too soon, but it feels incredible. Keith sets a punishing pace, his hold tight on Shiro's waist. He uses the momentum of his thrusts to pull Shiro back onto his cock, and Shiro can't do anything but fist his hands in fabric and try to breathe through the pleasure, mouth open, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes because this is so perfect and everything he wanted and didn't know he needed, didn't know he needed the rough pull of Keith's cock over his insides, the needy twist of pleasure in his belly, the hard strain of his own cock between his legs. Keith's big enough that it's almost overwhelming, giving Shiro no time to recover, no time to think about getting himself off when all he can think about is the drag of Keith inside him.

Keith bends over Shiro's back, weight pressing him down, and Shiro's thighs part, sliding across the bedding as he struggles to remain upright. Keith wraps an arm around his waist, and Shiro _sobs_ , surprised, as Keith's arm brushes the very tip of his oversensitive cock.

" _Such a good boy_ ," Keith is crooning to him, breath hot against his ear. He changes the angle and the rhythm as he grinds deep, holding there, pressing deeper, pushing past Shiro's limits until Shiro goes lax, letting Keith use him as he will. Keith resumes fucking Shiro, rolling his hips now, pacing himself. "Gonna come for me, baby?" Keith whispers, nipping at Shiro's neck.

"Please," Shiro manages to gasp out, "want to."

Keith hums, and speeds up a little, just enough that it's clear he's not going to tease any longer. He fists a hand in Shiro's hair, manages to get a grip, and tugs Shiro back onto his cock. Keith is gasping now, short, sharp ragged breaths stabbing the air, and Shiro isn't far behind. His cock aches with the need to be touched, he wants Keith to touch him, and now he can feel Keith swelling inside him, his cock getting harder, lengthening, the base swelling. Shiro lets out a cry, because it's almost too much, but Keith's hand in his hair holds him in place, his other on Shiro's shoulder, pulling him back onto his cock.

"Shiro, Shiro, please let me, please…" Keith's breath is stuttering, he sounds almost frantic now, hips snapping forward with force. "Gonna knot you, please, tell me I can." 

Shiro realizes Keith is desperate but he wants Shiro's permission. They've never gone _quite_ this far with playing with Keith's Galra side, but it's always been a possibility.

"You gonna take me all the way this time, Shiro?" Keith bites out.

Shiro arches his back, pushes back onto Keith's cock, and manages to string a strangled sentence together. "Whatever you need, baby, I'm yours. Do it."

The reaction is instantaneous; Keith freezes, balls deep in Shiro's ass, hand tightening at Shiro's nape, and growls, Keith's cock pulses and swells as he pushes home with a final grunt, grinding his hips into Shiro's tender ass as he comes.

Shiro's breathe stutters, his eyes widening as Keith's cock swells as he paints Shiro's insides – for a moment it seems impossibly large, too much to take, far too much, and Shiro whines, an instinctual acknowledgement of the alpha wolf covering him. Keith gives a final thrust and anchors his knot inside as Shiro squeezes his eyes shut, overwhelmed with pleasure. Keith pulls him backward, until Shiro is settled in his lap, and Keith can nuzzle into the join of his neck and shoulder, hands smoothing over his belly, brushing past his cock. Shiro pants, his breath ragged in his throat, because this is overwhelming; something he never thought about, never knew he needed and what he needs right now is to come, because his cock is so hard it aches, and he might be saying all of this out loud because he lost his brain-to-mouth filter when Keith knotted him, and _oh god, please, please, Keith, let me come –_

Keith brushes his canines over the join of Shiro's neck, biting down at the same time as he thrusts up, pushing his knot in further, and stroking his hand over Shiro's cock, once, twice, rough and quick, and Shiro does shout then, when he comes. It's not just a physical release this; it's a psychological release too, the knowledge of Keith's total ownership over him at this moment, and it makes Shiro light headed with the absolute pleasure of it all.

When he comes down – minutes, moments? – later, Keith is whispering sweet nothings in his ear, stroking softly at Shiro's sides, over his hips, down across his thighs and then back up again. He's kissing at a tender spot on Shiro's neck, and Shiro blinks a little, trying to focus. The pressure in his ass is lessening, he figures Keith's knot must be going down.

"Shiro, are you with me?" Keith is crooning softly, placing kisses wherever he can reach. He wraps a hand around Shiro's waist and rolls them gently down to the side, until they are laying down, and it feels like all of Shiro's muscles relax at once in a heady rush of endorphins.

"Wow," he finally manages to stutter out. 

Keith leans over him, and Shiro smiles up. The fangs are gone, although there's blood at the edge of his mouth, and his eyes are back to normal. He looks a little wide-eyed, a little lost. He shifts his hips and he pulls out carefully, running a gentle hand over Shiro's flank. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks.

Shiro makes a noise that he can only describe as a _giggle_ , god help him, he's actually giddy. He must be high on endorphins. "I'm so okay," he slurs, blinking up at Keith. "It was so good, oh my god. Why haven't we done that before? Because we should absolutely do that again," he hastens to add.

Keith clears his throat, a flush coloring his cheekbones. "I didn't know if you'd like it," Keith replies. "I don't think I've ever let go like that, that hard before. I mean, I was rough. I bit you."

"Oh." Shiro prods at the tender spot on his neck, and his hand comes away a little bloody. "Wow. Not a bad thing though – I think it kind of added to the whole experience."

He turns over so he can face Keith. Keith, for his part, looks a little like he might be about to freak out. Shiro tucks himself close to Keith, so they are touching chest to chest, hip to hip, and takes Keith's face in his palms, stroking his thumbs along Keith's cheekbones, soothing him. "Hey, hey, we're good here, baby," he whispers, leaning in for a kiss. "You didn't do anything I didn't ask you too. I could see your Galra side was slipping, I let you get rough with me. You didn't take anything I wasn't willing to give, and I would give you everything, love, you know that."

Keith bites his lip, locking gazes with Shiro. "Okay, if you are sure?"

Shiro nods, leans in for a kiss that starts out exploratory, and then turns filthy very quickly. Keith moans into the kiss, hands stroking over Shiro's back, and then he pulls away with a grumble, flopping down onto the bedroll. "I don't think I can go again."

Shiro laughs. "Baby, I think you've spoiled me for weeks. I'm exhausted."

"We should sleep then," Keith says, words starting to slur one into the other from exhaustion. "Stay with me, rest with me."

"Always." Shiro watches as Keith's eyes slide shut finally, and his breathing evens out. He's beautiful like this, body relaxed, features soft in sleep. Shiro commits it to memory, along with other things he treasures, like the expression of joy and wonder on Keith's face the first time they rode their hoverbikes out into the desert after curfew, and sat and talked under the starlight until dawn.

Tonight feels like a pivotal moment; a seminal point, a nexus in time. _Something_ whispers in the air, and Shiro thinks that maybe, just as long as he has Keith with him, they'll make it through whatever happens next. 

They are stronger with each other than apart, after all. 

And that's all Shiro really needs.


End file.
